The first Hello to a Himalayan River

A river bum is born: The story of our 7-day journey on the river Mahakali on the India-Nepal border.

My husband (A) and I moved to Rishikesh at the beginning of 2021. Rishikesh was of course, where we first experienced whitewater rapids during a short stay in 2020. The idea this time was to be close to the Ganga for a few months and experience the town and the river while working from home. This time, we discovered our love for the river, and the people on it.

We started spending our weekends learning white water kayaking in those cold February waters with Anvesh Singh Thapa(LinkedIn) of Expeditions India. With every kayaking lesson, we grew more and more fond of being on water. We were thrilled by the river stories we heard from him, some dating back to the late 90s.

It was no surprise then, that we found ourselves by April on our very first river expedition: on the Kali River on the foothills of the Himalayas of India on the India Nepal border. We were a group of 7 guests and a crew of 5 from Expeditions India, loaded on 2 rafts, 3 inflatable kayaks / Alpacka rafts, 2 kayaks and tons of food all set to drift down the white waters of this pristine tributary of the Ganga.

After an overnight train from Rishikesh, a day and half long road journey we arrived at Jauljibi, the starting point of our river journey. Jauljibi is a traditional mela ground for folks from both sides of the river, i.e. from India and Nepal. Around this time of the year (April) the river runs shallow and this is the point where it just gathers enough water for a rafting trip becoming possible.

We started from Jauljibi after a detailed safety briefing. Then we drifted down through the green hills and clear but shallow waters.

You’re either of the two: One, You have no clue about what a river expedition is. That’s pretty common. Growing up, we are told to be afraid of nature, of water, of walking in the forests, of adventure of any kind. We never learn to embrace it despite our country having been endowed with natural wealth.

OR Two, You think it’s just about the white water rapids. You’ve probably run a small section for half a day in Rishikesh, or North East if you are in India. You most likely have a vague memory of thrill.

Actually, it’s as much about being on water as it is about being on camp and with people. It’s not just about the adrenaline rush on the big rapids. It’s a way of life.

A typical day on the river starts between 6 and 7 in the morning at camp. It takes about a couple of hours to get river ready: have solid breakfast, chit chat, take pictures, do yoga, pack and pack more, till you are all packed and get your river PPE kit on (includes wetsuits, splash jackets, PFD, helmet & booties). You load everything on the rafts and off you go.

Yoga, food & getting river ready every morning.

A trip really depends on the people you end up sharing the experience with. We were fortunate to find a a lovely bunch of grounded, unassuming and really nice people. Initially, we thought they were quiet and reserved and it would be hard to crack jokes for the fear of offending them. It’s no fun if you are not at either the giving or receiving end of leg pulling so remote and far away from reality! But oh we were so so wrong. We all bonded and how!

We experienced very real versions of each other despite being strangers. Extended wilderness does that to you, all pretenses drop. We fell into a routine in a short time. Some of us packed, some picked up the rocks, some put up the tents and some loaded things on the raft. Everybody helped out, and everybody laughed and chilled.

That’s Anvesh sir, our trip leader, scouting a rapid and making a plan before we run it. He prefers being called Anvesh, but the fact that he has been on the river since we were in kindergarten and the number of instructions we got from him during the trip and kayak school, it was not possible for A & myself to call him anything but sir. He’s probably the most experienced active river guide in the country. He is also the best storyteller on running water.

Fresh spring water ran down the hills that our river cut through. Vegetation like this was a sweet surprise. Featuring Sugamathy aka doc who was the most deserving of the trip after fighting COVID in the emergency ward for the past entire year. She had this amazing positive aura that anyone would grow fond of. Saravana, the master organizer and doc’s trip strategist. Also, the most prepared for the trip. Decathlon should definitely hire him as an influencer. You should head over to dhruvsaravana to see how they’re raising their son to love the outdoors.

Meet Reynold, who never let Anvesh sir load the dry bags on the raft alone. He secretly learnt all the knots and took a crash course on how to do expeditions like this one. On the right you see Nanu and Manish, part of the multi tasking crew loading up our food. We did this every morning.

Everyday when we started, if the sun was a bit strong we would throw ourselves into the water to cool off. Pretty neat way to take a bath too. We would respond to a loud, “My team forwards” and promptly paddle. From day 2, we had these inflatable kayaks out too and I was like a kid taking it in every turn possible, except the one after lunch for obvious reasons.

Taking a bath.

A does not know how to give candid shots. If he saw Praveen, our photographer with his camera out, he would look at him and give a 24 carat smile. But it gives an accurate description of how we felt in the mini rapids we ran in those kayaks.

Praveen in action, making the visuals for my story possible. He is a contributor for National Geographic and you can find him on Instagram here.

Featuring myself on the bow and PJ guiding the raft. From being christened “Cleopatra of the Kali” because Nanu had to tow her kayak, PJ went on to guiding the heavily loaded Cataraft, even if it were only for a very little while. The name Cleopatra has since stuck, given the style and power PJ brings with her presence. We go way back and I have a history of being taken from one place to another with PJ’s muscle power. She put me on a bicycle and rode around campus during placements to make sure I reach for interviews on time.

We met locals on the way and discovered how they live, and witnessed extraordinary things that they find absolutely normal. We saw adolescents and adults sit on truck tyre tubes ferrying goods across from one town to another. They either used rubber flip flops or small wooden bats as oars to move them forward. No PPEs, no fuss. Plain old jugaad.

We had a transient relationship with camps. It was a different location every night and yet, each one felt like home. Every morning while leaving, it felt like we were going to come back. Camp was where we wanted to continue staying, but what we had to leave to be on the river.

We would wait for the cheer — “Camp ahoy people!” Tricks were played on us innocent paddlers — “Paddle hard people, we still have 5 kms to go!” or “Another 10 minutes guys, and we’ll reach camp.” We never knew if they were true. Either way spirits were always up on our raft.

“Camp Ahoy!” It was lovely to see the water and sky change colours in the mornings and evenings.

Each of our tents was given a name. A and myself shared “Majama” tent :)

Meet Lali ji, frying potatoes for our evening snacks, and Nanu probably smashing ginger. When we would reach camp everyday, we’d be crushed and tired, barely able to pitch our tents. And that’s when the crew and Lali’s work would really start — mind you they would be paddling with us the whole day too. They made it possible for our trip to feel like a five-star hotel stay packed with solid breakfast, lunch and dinner and never ending chai.

Meet Jangu Dai. The only person on the trip with stories comparable to Anvesh sir’s. In the river community, he’s something of a rockstar. Jangu Dai can do everything, literally: run rapids, be a safety kayaker, cook, clean up, set up tents, be the most gracious and thoughtful host and insist so you end up eating more than you can. He’s the definition of zen and the most adored crew member. He is also a cleanliness lover. We had a very windy night on the trip once and we had sand everywhere — from our ears to sleeping bags protected inside the tents. He usually did the dishes and left them to dry in the open. On that day, he did the dishes over and over again. Every time the wind covered them with sand, he did them again. I think the wind got tired, but not Jangu.

It’s not always pretty and easy. In a trip like this, you meet nature up close, face to face. You see the awe inspiring, but you also see the heartbreaking.

When we did the trip, we were in peak forest fire period of the season in Uttarakhand. It was difficult seeing beauty lost in the smoke from fires and dead stumps where all would be green. Some of these fires are needed and natural, but some are triggered by human activities.

Nearly lost in smoke.

Thorns in the river’s heart. (Left) Trucks, JCBs mining sand Jauljibi and Chaukidri villages. (Right) Road construction downstream of Rupaligad village & upstream of Chuka village. They are pushing all debris off the cliff which is damaging the flora as it rolls down of the mountain slopes, making the mountains prone to landslides and the debris ends up in the river creating a man made obstacle.

Anvesh has run this corridor several times since 1997 and knows it like the back of his hand. Throughout the journey he kept pointing at sections of the river bed that have changed, camp sites that have disappeared.

The heartbreak here is not about a river guide’s favorite camping spot going out of existence. It is about the larger change humanity is bringing to nature, and many times at the cost of other human beings. Pancheshwar dam is one extreme example. It would be the highest landfill dam (315m) in the world on completion and it’s very close to an earthquake fault line. This dam, if built will lead over half of the stretch of water we traveled to go under water including villages on the riverbank from Jaulibi to Pancheshwar. It is expected to submerge land owned by close to 30,000 families spread over 62 villages in the Hill State.

We mostly associate living sustainably, not using plastics, saving environment, consuming organic food with the “activist” type friends that we have in our circles. But when you see changes in nature so up close, it is hard to not ask yourself what can you as an individual do, to not harm the ecosystem you live in? Which comforts are you willing to let go to save these places of natural beauty?

The most likely answer and the hard truth is that these questions would go unanswered and despite this subject having touched a nerve, you and I will go back to our regular lives with this becoming a mere afterthought. After all, we want all that electricity, comfort of running hot water all around the year, more water for our fields and plastic bottles for our shampoo.

We passed the dam site, and with a heavy thought in our heads moved on with our journey, hoping this would not be our last trip down the Kali.

During our kayak school sessions, we became used to hearing — “Remember: Name of the game, stay calm!” But when we were hit by big splashes of water, we would be anything but calm! If camps brought peace and serenity, white water rapids brought excitement and adventure to our trip. There are only two kinds of river guides/rafters/paddlers: those who’ve flipped and/or those who will. Flipping on a rapid is a very real possibility and one that does test your ability to stay calm. For a few seconds it is likely that you would be under the raft with no light, drinking water and running on the breath you took in panic when you were above surface.

But when you don’t flip:

We did not flip, and took splashes that washed away our anxiety and exhaustion caused by reality. On the right, Manish expertly maneuvering the loaded Cataraft.

Yours truly running the very first grade 3 rapid of her life all alone (not really, Nanu is just outside the frame).

Nanu Mehra adept at running tricky rapids as this and in fact as a safety kayaker capable of helping you come out of a tight spot in case you find yourself in one. Very river-suave indeed.

But when you are kayaking, you are in between swims.

During the trip, I was able to get back in touch with my child like curiosity and enthusiasm for life. Since there were no distractions, I was more present, more aware about my surroundings. I was more observant of the people around me. I breathed easy, escaped from being an adult who needs to put up appearances once in a while. I was also grateful for the opportunity I had got, an opportunity that may not come in the future if this river is taken away.

We braided and bonded together.

If I were Harry Potter, I would reach out for the memories from this river expedition to drive away a dementor. If there is magic on earth, it’s on the river and in the hills. That’s one place I know I will find happiness.

I was not much of a religious or spiritual person, but a spark of faith did start during the time I spent in Rishikesh on the Ganga and during this trip on the Kali. Today when I close my eyes, a few times every week, to pray or meditate, I think of the time I spent on the river. I think of the sound of a rapid you hear right before witnessing one. I think of the crystal blue, teal and sometimes grey waters of the river. I think of the cries of the “brain fever” bird, and of the pure joy I felt waking up every morning. I think of the vacuum inside my head in the moments I am underwater. I did not think about my phone, Instagram, work or online shopping. No urge to check whatsapp. If that is not 7 straight days of meditation, then what is?

I could just be. I did not have to constantly do.

This is the most intimate I have ever been with nature. Hand on the Gujju heart, this is one of the best RoI trips a nature lover can invest time and effort in.

I hold these memories precious, revisit them often lest I forget certain details. I look at the surreal photographs and wait for the day I find myself in my sleeping bag, with a little bit of sand and in my kayak running rapids saying hello again.

P. S. Cleopatra, perfectly showcasing how we felt on our last river day, and still do — till we go there again.

*******************************************************************

Anvesh and his wife Ing-Marie run Expeditions India. It is a complete treat to be hosted by him and his team of highly competent and fun river people, and his adventure stories from across the world are worth staying up for after an exhausting river day.

Coolness credits: Beloved husband — Aarsh Shah. All of this was his idea, including this article.

Check out this whitewater rafting kayaking song for more feels :)

Read more about why Pancheshwar dam is a bad idea here. You can get more information about rivers and dam projects and support saving them here and here.

All the above images have been shot by Praveen Jayakaran for Expeditions India, copyrights reserved.

Edits: Factual error corrections about the Pancheswar dam and Kali being a tributary to the Ganga. Earlier it was mentioned as the Yamuna.